Page 62 of Grinch Girl

A ghost of a smile turned up his lips, and he shrugged. “Just the same, I’ve missed you.” He gestured at the ever-present camera. “And I don’t care who the voters pair me with for the New Year’s Eve party. I’m kissingyouat midnight. Kissing in the new year with you is the daydream my brain has been playing on repeat.”

I let that daydream seep into my brain. It was easy to picture: Nate, all dressed up in a dark suit, a champagne glass in hand, bending over to kiss me amid a loud countdown, streamers and confetti bursting into the air around us.

But it was just as easy for me to picture January 1st. Nate putting a suitcase in the trunk of his car after giving me a distracted kiss goodbye, his thoughts already moving on to thedrive home, the work week ahead, what he’d order for dinner, the friends he hadn’t seen much of in December. His thoughts would be on the transition back into his real life.

Maybe it was partially the whiskey talking, but maybe it was all me. “Did it ever occur to you,” I said icily, “that I don’t want to kiss in the new year with someone who’s going to leave? God!” I exclaimed, way, way too loud. “I’m so tired of everybody fucking leaving me!”

Across the fire, Bella’s shocked eyes rose to meet mine. I stared at her for what felt like a month.

Eventually, Michael left her side, walking toward me. Great, just great. I was making a fool of myself. But I wasn’t going to stop. “Michael knows what I’m talkin’ ’bout,” I slurred as he approached. “We’re used to bein’ left behind, right?”

“Jane, do you want me to take you home? It’s no trouble,” Michael offered. As chivalrous and decent as it was, I saw the effort it took him to walk away from Bella, saw the way his eyes slid to hers and held.I’ll be back,he seemed to say.I’ll come back to you.

Nate ignored Michael’s offer. “If you want to go home, Jane, I’ll take you. I haven’t quite finished what I wanted to say, anyway.”

The ugly urge to fight hadn’t quite left me either. “You can go back to Bella,” I said to Michael, shooing him away. “I don’t want to suck up any of your precious remaining moments with her.”

Looking a little wounded, Michael edged away. “Don’t let her drive,” he said to Nate, as though I wasn’t standing right there.

“I don’t want to leave,” I announced. That wasn’t quite true, but I definitely didn’t want to leave with either of them. I just needed to wait awhile, until we’d gotten enough footage for the episode. Then I could bum a ride home with Sean.

“Fine, we’ll keep talking here then.” Nate’s voice was clipped. “Though you probably won’t even remember it tomorrow.”

“Oh, settle down. I’m notthatdrunk,” I lied.

“Super,” Nate said. “Then I can point out all the ways you’re thinking too narrowly. Yeah, I don’t live here and you do. But I don’t live in Antarctica. I am leaving after New Year’s, true, but I’d like to keep exploring whatever this is.” He let out a frustrated sigh. “We can do that, you know. We can choose to try.”

Pretty words and an even prettier sentiment. “You say that now, but it wouldn’t work.” Better words failed me. The liquor had put up a blockade between my thoughts and my mouth.

“Why?” he asked, voice soft again. “Why do you think that?”

Um, a lifetime of experience?No one chooses me.

Jesus, how pathetic. But that was the crux of it all, wasn’t it? Until a few years ago, Kelly would have picked a fifth of vodka over me every day of the week and twice on Sunday. My best friend in the world had left town without looking back—and had never come home to see me. Not in more than a decade. Even my beloved Greta—well, she would have chosen Bella over me every time. I didn’t blame her for loving her granddaughter, but Christ, it sure hurt to never be someone’s first choice.

“No one chooses me,” I mouthed into the fire.

“What?” Nate asked, impatience and worry etched into the faint lines around his face. “What did you say?”

I shook my dizzy head, almost enjoying the way it made little starbursts appear at the corners of my vision. “Nothing.” Suddenly, the heat of the fire was making me nauseous. I wanted away from it. And Nate. And the camera. Everyone.

“I need to be alone,” I said, spacing out each word distinctly to make sure I sounded in control. “I’ll get a ride home from Sean or Carol.” I gave Nate a vague, dismissive smile that didn’t match the pinching sensation in my chest and throat. “Goodbye.”

“Goodbye?” he echoed, incredulous and angry. “As in goodbye for tonight or goodbye for good?”

“For good,” I said quickly, before my brain or heart could override the whiskey. I waved my hands between us. “Whatever we were, it’s over.” My voice was clogged with tears but certainly clear enough for him to hear.

His head snapped back as though I’d slapped him. “Over?”

For a minute, I thought he was going to follow me. But I made a firm “you stay put” gesture to both him and the cameramen, and they actually obeyed, for once.

I strode away determinedly, only to realize once again that there weren’t many places to hide at a beach bonfire. I didn’t want to talk to any of the other web series participants, and I could seriously not handle any of Carol’s logistics or planning right now. My head was spinning and my heart was aching and I just wanted space and silence.

My gaze focused on the pier in the distance. Oh, that would be perfect. It was completely empty right now, and if I walked to the edge, I’d get a panoramic view of the quiet lake. The air would be fresh and free of the thick ash of the fire. Surely, out there my head would clear up and my chest would stop hurting and my stomach would stop lurching.

Back at the fire, Brian and Mabel had approached Nate, and the cameraman had refocused on their conversation. Nate wasn’t watching me walk away—which was a good thing, I told myself. Shoving my hands in my pockets, I shuffled out onto the pier, sliding on the thin layer of snow in the heeled boots like they were skates. The farther out I walked, the more the noise from the fire faded and the wind picked up, blowing my hair across my face and blinding me. I let it.

Along with my hair, the wind whipped the falling snow onto my cheeks. They’d be red as strawberries from windburn tomorrow. What was I thinking to not even wear a scarf tonight?My thighs were completely numb beneath the thin patterned tights.Maybe I should return to the warmth of the fire.

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